


They Can’t Take That Away from Me

by not_whelmed_yet



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Ghostbusters (2016)
Genre: Awesome Peggy Carter, Bittersweet, Crack, Crossover, Dancing, F/F, Fluff, Ghost Spies, Ghosts, Punching, Spies, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-29 04:22:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7669927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/not_whelmed_yet/pseuds/not_whelmed_yet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Half of the Ghostbusters accidentally recruit Peggy Carter and co via timetravel to help them find a ghost spy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	They Can’t Take That Away from Me

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a friend, who loves Holtzy and Peggy and who speculated that them meeting would be amazing. I don't know if this lived up to that potential, but it was really fun.
> 
> I don't follow Ghostbusters as a property and I've only seen the recent movie once. So I made a lot of all that up. This is meant to be a fun story, just roll with it. I'd initially imagined a long string of scenes where Jarvis attempts to teach Kevin how to do normal human things, which would have been great, but I also wanted lots of feelings and for this story to be under 5,000 words.
> 
> This is barely edited, so if you see a mistake please let me know so I can fix it. Enjoy!

The sun had already set by the time Peggy got home, meaning that the bloodstains on her formerly crisp white shirt and brown slacks didn't quite come into view until she'd stepped into the lighted entryway. Angie, who had heard the bell and come running, froze in horror. Peggy put on her best wry smile to try and diffuse the coming meltdown.

"Don't worry, Angie, it isn't mine," she said quickly. "Thinks went a bit sideways but it all worked out in the end. Do you mind if I," she gestured off in the direction of the bathroom, "go get cleaned up before Jarvis wanders over here and has a conniption?"

Angie darted closer and then started frantically patting her down. "You think he's the one you gotta worry about? Quick mission, nothing to worry about, not dangerous...English, are you habitually lying to me? I thought we had this talk."

"Angie please, stop." Peggy grabbed her hands, pinning them on her hips. "You're going to get blood all over your nice clothes. I promise none of it is mine. Now, I have been sitting in debriefings and talking to police officers for two hours and I would very much like a bath."

Which was right when Mr. Edwin Jarvis rounded the corner and stopped short to take in the scene. Angie half kneeling, bloody hands pinned on Peggy's hips, Peggy covered in blood. They sprang apart, Angie lurching to her feet and pointlessly hiding her hands behind her back. He continued staring for a moment, then said, "I trust I'm not interrupting anything?"

"Goodness knows I don't want to know what you're implying, Mr. Jarvis," Peggy said shortly. "I am quite alright, thank you all for your concern and I will be back in thirty minutes after I have washed the remains of the late Mrs. Ba-"

Everything went dark. And then kind of wobbly. There was a thumping sound that seemed to come from insider her head at first, but then resolved itself to definitely be an out of body experience. Angie grabbed her hands and Mr. Jarvis tried to steady her from the shoulders, which would have been helpful if she was fainting. Which she wasn't, she was quite familiar with that particular set of unpleasant physical sensations.

"What's going on, Pegs?" Angie asked. She sounded scared, but that bloody thumping noise kept getting louder and it was getting increasingly hard to concentrate.

"I'll let you know in a minute!" She shouted back.

"This feels remarkably like being on drugs. While riding on a carnival ride and being thumped over the head by someone's angry ex-suitor. I do hope it stops soon." Jarvis mused.

It did. Or rather, the darkness stopped quite rapidly, and was replaced by midday sunlight. The wobbling sensation stopped when they fell out of the sky and onto the concrete floor four feet below them. The goddamn thumping noise continued and she could now hear that there was some moron attempting to warble along with the beat. Hopefully it was a recording so she could smash it immanently.

She blinked a few times as her eyes adjusted to the sudden light. Tall ceiling, fireman's pole, garage-style doors. Clearly a firehouse, but no firemen or trucks, so probably not in use. Also supporting that theory was the enormous circular metal pad on the floor with lots of flashing lights and the two ridiculously dressed women leaning over them.

One of them was shorter, blond, wearing absurd glasses and most importantly carrying a gun which was pointed in their general direction. In Angie's general direction. Unacceptable.

Peggy swept her feet out from under her, transforming that forward momentum into a tackle. They landed in a heap and Peggy rolled to trap the gun arm. With the other hand she grabbed the bright floral necktie and pulled.

Glasses askew, the woman grinned at her. "You're a sexy spy," she said. "Please don't choke me." She delivered both of those lines with equal apparent glee.

"Holtzy, hold on. I'll get that crazy woman off of you," the other woman said, stomping over holding what appeared to be a broomstick. She was big enough that it was fairly menacing in any case, though Peggy doubted she'd ever had any fighting training. It was going to be difficult to avoid getting hit while still controlling the gun arm and this day was going terribly.

"Could everyone please calm down," Jarvis said beseechingly. "Who are you people? Why have you kidnapped us? What is that awful noise and why do I have the horrible inclination it's supposed to be music?"

The taller woman stopped and glanced behind her. "Oh, that's Kevin. He claims he's in a band. If you let go of Dr. Holtzman, crazy spy lady, I'll go make him shut up."

"Drop the gun first and it's a deal," Peggy said.

"Fair enough, fair enough," Dr. Holtzman said, letting go of the gun and pushing it away. "Don't step on my baby, she's kind of explosive. New experimental power source."

"Thank you," Peggy said, getting back on her feet. She offered a hand up to Angie and then to Jarvis. The downed Dr. Holtzman looked at her expectantly and wiggled her outstretched hands. Quirking an eyebrow, Peggy hoisted her up as well.

"Deal's a deal. Holtzy, go shut up Kevin."

"You said that you'd-"

"I said, 'No, Holtzman, we can't grab people out of the timestream. That would be unethical and dangerous', so forgive me if I'm feeling a mite bit snippy today. Go. Kevin." Dr. Holtzman walked off. Well, she locomoted to behind the wood paneled divider most of the noise was coming from. Walked seemed a stretch. The other woman turned to Peggy and then boggled for a moment, eyes widening in apparent recognition before she held out her hand to shake. “Patty Tolan, Ghostbuster and historian. I’m really sorry to inconvenience you like this. We’re working on a case involving a certain historical figure and Holtzman thought we should pull them forward in time but clearly something went wrong, because you’re not who we were looking for.”

“Margaret Carter, agent of S.H.I.E.L.D., please call me Peggy.” They shook hands as that godawful noise finally ceased.

Patty nodded. “I know.”

“Know?”

“Historian, like I said. We’ve pulled you all a bit forwards in time, no biggie, Holtzman can send you back. You’re kind of famous in the future, Agent Carter.”

Angie stuck out her hand. “Angie Martinelli, actress.”

Peggy took it and gave a nod and a knowing smile. “Oh, I know.”

Angie grinned. Peggy caught her eye and smiled.

Jarvis folded his hands behind his back and nodded formally. “Edwin Jarvis, driver and personal assistant to Howard Stark. I am currently at Ms. Carter’s disposal but could we go home now? My wife is waiting.”

“Personal assistant? Do you do any secretarial work? Our assistant, Kevin, could really use a guiding hand. He’s a bit of a wreck.”

“The…musician? Well, no case is totally hopeless. I could go,” he hesitated. “But you can send us back, rightly? Properly? Same time and everything? Ana doesn’t like it when I miss dinner without calling.”

“Holtzman says she’s got it, she’s got it.”

“Oh, very well then. I’ll go whip your young man into shape while the ladies talk shop, I guess. Nothing better to do.”

Peggy fiddled with the hem of her shirt, which had by now dried crusty and brown. “I don’t suppose the spy you thought you were getting was a Mrs. Marian Barnham?”

“That’s the girl,” Patty said, nodding vigorously.

“Well that probably explains it,” Peggy said with a sigh. She pulled her shirt a bit away from her body in demonstration.   “You got a good bit of her, to be fair. Is there any chance I could get a shower and a change of clothes before we ‘talk shop’? I’ve been having a wretched day.”

“Yeah, we’ve got showers in the bathroom, this place used to be a firehouse. I’ll show you the back.”

 

* * *

 

One long and thorough shower later, Peggy dressed in a borrowed suit (apparently the property of a ghost hunter that was upstate). It made her look rather schoolmarm-ish to her eye, but at least it wasn’t Holtzman’s. Who had, by the way, seen fit to steal Peggy’s clothes and whisk them away to her lab upstairs to do something with the blood on them. She’d left the underclothes, but only after she noticed Peggy watching.

She exited to find everyone sitting upstairs at a table covered in metal devices, wiring, two boxes of pizza, and a pair of blowtorches. She grabbed a slice and sat down in the chair Angie had saved for her. Five hours on duty, two hours of debriefing, twenty minutes of wrangling people from the future. She was starving.

Holtzman gave her a nod of acknowledgement and a wink as she sat down, but didn’t stop telling the story she was in the middle of. She was eating two slices of pizza at once, sandwhiched together with the cheese on the inside. It was grotesquely fascinating. “So then we get a call from the president, but not the president. Secret service. And Abby and Erin had just left.”

“So I suggested we call them back so we could handle this blackmail thing together,” Patty put in. “But no. Apparently they both left their phones here. Both of them.”

“So the President of the United States is being blackmailed by a ghost spy?” Angie said dubiously. “And they’re leaving it up to the two of you?”

“Three,” a tall blond guy said. “I’m a ghostbuster too.”

“Sure Kev,” Holtzman said. She made eye contact with Peggy again and widened her eyes while shaking her head very slowly.

Peggy shook her head and put down the slice of pizza. “Wait. Are you saying the ghost of Marian Barnham is blackmailing the president?”

“Yep,” Holtzman said.

“Turns out spying is really easy when you’re a ghost. We’ve been having trouble with Hydra using spirit amplifying thingies to manifest hostile ghosts to pursue world terror. This is just the latest attempt.”

Peggy boggled. Okay, Hydra was still around. Ghosts were real. You could engineer your way into them manifesting. “But Barnham? She didn’t last three days before we noticed her stealing files. She wasn’t exactly a criminal mastermind.”

Holtzman shrugged. “It helps to be invisible and intangible.”

Patty nodded. “We can trap her easy, if we could only find the damn woman. That’s what we wanted her body for, Holtzy says she can rig up a linkage to lead us to her.”

“I can do it,” Peggy said. “I mean, I literally hunted her down hours ago. Second time’s the charm. But I’ve never punched a ghost before. Is that something a person can do, because I would like to very much.”

“No weird blood science needed?” Patty asked hopefully.

At the same time, Holtzman said, “You want to punch ghosts? I have just the thing,” and then dove under the table.

“Are you two,” Angie said, pointing under the table and then at Patty, “together? It’s real cute how protective you two are.”

Patty snorted. “I’m pretty sure Holtzy doesn’t do relationships. What about you and Ms. Carter? The history books were quite unclear on that account.”

“Depends. How illegal would that be, nowadays?” Angie asked. Peggy kicked her in the shin.

“Angie!”

Patty steepled her fingers and leaned forwards. “Not illegal at all, anymore. Come on, all I want to know is if you two are a couple. For historical interest! Off the record. Wow, that sounds professional – ‘off the record’. I could start writing a book about the Ghostbusters at some point, just like Erin and Abby.”

“Well, ‘off the record’, we’re not a couple,” Peggy said firmly.

“Naw, that would be improper,” Angie agreed. “We do have sex once in a while, though. Would be more if somebody had normal working hours.”

“Angie!” Peggy rubbed her temple with the heel of her hand. “First of all, please don’t tell strangers that. Secondly, actresses also have abnormal working hours, I thought you were okay with that? Oh, and thirdly, is Holtzman sitting on the floor on the other side of this table, spying on all of us?”

“She’s not the only one,” commented Jarvis mildly. “It’s not like you’re having this conversation in a private venue.”

“I admit, you two would look great together,” Kevin, the terrible assistant, said. “Kissing but without clothes. It would be very-”

Holtzman jumped back on her feet, her hands incased in metal gauntlets. “Voila!” She shouted and tapped Kevin on the shoulder.

There was a bang and a flash and Kevin went flying about ten feet, landing on the incongruously placed gymnastics safety matt by the wall.

“Damn,” Patty said. “And keep your mouth shut if you’re going to be a creep Kevin!”

Holtzman popped the gloves off and held them out to Peggy. “Your ghost punching gauntlets. I’d explain how they work, but I don’t think any of it was invented in the fifties.”

“If you want to anyway, feel free. Howard always does. Important bits first, though. Do I have a limited number of shots?”

“Not on a human timescale. Now, on a geologic timescale, yeah.”

“Are they safe to carry around?”

Holtzman held a hand up horizontally and wiggled it. Patty nodded as if that gesture had great significance. Holtzman shrugged. “I’ll grab you a belt to clip ‘em onto. Anything else?”

Peggy slid her hand into one of the gauntlets. “Yeah, how do I shoot?”

 

* * *

 

 

Traffic in New York certainly hadn’t improved in sixty years. Jarvis had initially insisted on driving, sat down behind the wheel of the ghostbuster’s hot-pink hearse and then been called away when Kevin, perpetual manchild, set off the fire alarm. In a firehouse. He decided to stay behind and babysit while the rest of the gang drove over. Eventually they had decided Patty should drive, as she seemed the person most sane, possessing of a valid driver’s license and motivated to see the car not come to an ill-fated demise.

The building looked the similar, but that only made the obvious differences more unnerving. The bold, weirdly plastic election signs, all names of unknowns. The door was the wrong color and all the windows were different. The surrounding buildings were totally changed. Peggy looked down at her striped jumpsuit and frowned. “Anybody have a hair tie? I feel like this character should have a hair tie.”

“Oh, we got loads,” Patty said, pulling the glove compartment open and rummaging through the mass of junk within. Eventually she came out with a hair tie, but covered in stretchy fabric so it didn’t catch at your hair. It was quite nice; Peggy wondered what the temporal implications would be of her filching a few to take home with her.

“Thank you, Patty. We’ll walk from here, so the tenant can’t see car from the door.”

She knocked a few times before a small Asian gentleman opened the door. “Hello?” he asked uncertainly.

“Good afternoon. You are Mr. Anthony Ruan, correct? We’re here to fix-”

“I know you,” he said with a broad smile. “You’re the ghost ladies. Do I have a ghost?”

Peggy recalculated, quickly. She dropped the fake smile and nodded seriously. “You do. We have evidence to suggest there is a malicious spirit residing in the upstairs bedroom. Do you mind if we look inside and contain the spirit if necessary?”

“You two look different,” he said after a pause. “Are the ghost ladies recruiting? Because I have a lot of free time on weekends and I’m good at clerical work and baking.”

“Do feel free to send in an application.” Patty said over her shoulder. “In the meantime, there’s a chance this one might be a bit feisty. Would you mind stepping outside while we handle it? I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”

“Can you make chocolate chip muffins?” Holtzman put in.

“Anyone can make muffins, my dear. Give me a moment and I’ll grab my phone. I’ll just go play Pokémon for a bit while you all work.”

He shuffled about for a bit, grabbing a large plastic rectangle off the table along with what looked like a slightly squared off baseball hat and brightly colored sandals that resembled the Japanese-import rubber thong craze among young ladies back home. He waved them off cheerily and disappeared without any further fuss, poking and padding at the screen of his phone.

“Does that happen a lot?” Angie asked. “Because if so, New Yorkers are a lot more trusting in this day and age.”

“Naw,” Patty said. She was grinning. “But you get a good egg once in a while.”

“Alright, we’re in.” Peggy started stripping out of the coveralls and pulling the hairband back out. “Bloody me up, Holtzman.”

Holtzman was overly enthusiastic with fake blood. She also insisted Peggy take her sensible shoes and socks off before she attached the jetpacks.

“And this is safe, right?” Angie asked.

“Sure. Levitating is very safe.” Holtzman nodded. “And stop calling it a jetpack, Pats. There is no jetfuel involved. It’s magnetic.”

“Please do speak louder and let Marian know what we’re doing. That’s an excellent idea,” Peggy said. “Now, do I or do I not look ghostly enough?”

“Need a bit of powder, I think, you still look pretty fleshy,” Angie said and then preceded to douse her in white foundation. It was possible Holtzman was running a small community theater in her spare time based upon the cosmetics she kept on hand. It was also possible she kept fake blood on hand for fun.

“Alright, light me up. Angie, hold the gloves and don’t punch anybody who doesn’t deserve it.”

It was weird, floating. Also difficult to get up stairs. Mostly she let Angie push her in the right direction while hauling herself along with the railing. When they got outside the bedroom door, which was luckily open, everyone else hung back while Peggy floated forwards.

“Marian,” she said. “Marian, I know you’re here.”

“The hell?” Marian Barnham appeared two feet off to her left. Three feet in the air. “Carter, you’re dead. I saw your funeral on the television.”

“And I saw you blow your brains out. Funny how we’re still both here, back again, having the same conversation. Would you believe I heard through the grapevine that you were attempting to blackmail the president? Marian, Marian, Marian,” she chided with a frown, “did you think no one was watching?”

“It was perfect! Nobody can catch me. He resigns or I hand over all his secrets. And then I’ll do the same thing to his replacement. And his replacement. I might not have gotten far the first time, but this time, I’ll bring the country to its knees.”

“Right, right. Marian, do you know what your mistake was, the first time around?” Peggy asked, drifting backwards a bit by adjusting the angle of her legs.

“I didn’t kill Jared when he dropped off the packages at my apartment. Then he squealed on me.”

“Right. See, I remember things differently, just a bit. I’d say that your mistake was your intent to target the Theatre de Lys in the bombing.” She’d now drifted well out into the hallway. Marian drifted to follow her.

“How so? It was a small theater. A good testing ground.”

Paggy spat at her, which was ineffectual but very satisfying. “My best girl works there, you idiot,” Peggy said. “Now would be good!”

Angie grabbed her hand and pulled her away just as the ghost trap activated with a bang and began to suck the unfortunate late Mrs. Barnham inside. Peggy held out her hands and Angie slipped her gauntlets on. On the other side of the trap, Patty and Holtzman stood watching, leaning casually against the wall, proton guns unholstered but held casually. “You were right!” Holtzman yelled over the noise, “She is really stupid!”

“You’re not even dead, are you? You’re not even dead!” Marian screamed.

“Honestly, I’m starting to wonder if I even should have bothered with the makeup. You probably would have followed me anyway. Honestly, it’s not that I couldn’t have taken you down by hand,” she squeezed her fist a bit and the glove made and impressive whine and flash of light, “but I didn’t want to wreck poor Mr. Ruan’s spare room. You’re not really worth it, Marian.”

“Burn!” Holtzman crowed, which must have meant something.

“Sick,” Patty agreed. She held her free hand way up in the air and Holtzman jumped for it, which seemed like a singularly overenergetic way of giving five, but hey. Times change.

With one final shriek, Marian slipped all the way into the canister and the lid slapped shut. Peggy leaned over and switched off the ankle jets, thumping back down to earth. “Damn, I’d really wanted to punch something. How does she fit in there? Is she still conscious?”

“Those are excellent questions,” Holtzman said.

“Yeah, we’re not really sure. Anyway, that was an easy one, thanks for the assist, guys. We’ll head on out and let Mr. Ruan know he can come back in, I guess. And I guess someone should call up the secret service. Man, sentences I never thought I’d say.” Patty grinned.

“Could I call them for you?” Angie asked eagerly.

“That might raise rather more questions than we want to answer,” Peggy said. “I don’t think we want anyone deciding we have to stay here. Mr. Jarvis would be most upset.”

They trooped down the stairs and gathered up their supplies before walking back out onto the sidewalk. “On the bright side,” Patty said, “You’d get to spend time with your boy.”

“My boy?” Peggy said, doubtfully. She caught site of Mr. Ruan halfway down the walk and waved to get his attention.

“Aw shit, I shouldn’t have said that. We are really bad at time travel, Holtzy. Please, Agent Carter, forget I said anything. Bad enough you going back to your time knowing what you already do.”

“That’s alright, I completely understand,” Peggy said.

They were halfway through their goodbyes with Mr. Ruan when Peggy heard boots thumping along the walk behind them. She slipped her hands into her gauntlets, spun and clocked the first guy in the chest. He was solid and she felt a bit bad about how far he flew.

Then one of his compatriots shouted her two least favorite words in sequence, beginning with ‘hail’. She felt a lot less bad, all of a sudden. So much so that she gave compatriots numbers two and three similar flying swings. “Someone should probably get on that call to the secret service!” She suggested.

Only three of them. Certainly Mr. Ruan might have something in his kitchen to tie them up with. One of the men groaned and pulled something from his pocket.

“Aw shit, he’s got an invocator,” Holtzman muttered. She took off at a run towards the guy, who was unfortunately now quite far away. Before she could get to him, the little button looking device started oozing smoke. The smoke slowly began dividing into indistinct, vaguely humanoid forms.

“Can we use the trap twice?” Peggy asked.

“One use only,” Patty replied. “But we’ve got a spare in the trunk.” She held out a key. “Angie, Anthony, would you mind running and getting that for me? Me and Mrs. Carter have some nazi ghosts to hit.” She unholstered her proton gun again. “By the way, Carter, one piece of advice.”

“And what’s that?” Peggy asked, bouncing on her toes a bit as the smoky forms began to accelerate towards them.

“Watch my girl. She’s magic,” Patty said with a grin.

The first ghost flew through Peggy with a shriek and she missed the swing. In its wake it left behind something gross and cold and slimy, which rather explained the coveralls. But there was no time to mind that. Patty would deal with the one behind her. They needed to drive them all as close together as possible and not let anything get away, get to Angie and Mr. Ruan, hurt any civilians.

She got one nazi ghost across the jaw, splattering it. The next she nailed approximately where he used to have a solar plexus, sending him careening backwards into his ghostie friends. The sensation of them touching you was distinctly unpleasant. It was weird not being able to kick people. The gauntlets should come with boots for better kicking. Three ghosts tried to pile onto her, but she got the one off in time to see Patty whip and drag the other two with the proton gun. Patty gave her a thumbs up and Peggy continued on into the thick of it. Literally the thick of it, you could barely stretch your arms without running into a Hydra-summoned shade. In the murk of semi-translucent bodies, she didn’t see Holtzman until a plasma beam nearly took her head off. But was Patty right, or what? Holtzman was using a pair of short pistols to snag ghosts, throwing them against each other, into the air, looping and boxing them in with an expression of undeniable glee. She saw Peggy, made eye contact and threw one of the ghosts her way.

Peggy caught it on an outraised fist and it splattered. Holtzman winked, real slow, and then whirled off again into the murk.

“Alright! Everybody in!” Patty bellowed from somewhere behind her as Peggy ducked under a ghost wielding a ghost bayonet. There was a familiar whirlwind sound and the indistinct shades were dragged away. Peggy poofed a few of the ones that seemed less effected and nearly tripped over the unconscious goon with the ‘invocator’. Apparently someone had smashed it and incidentally his face at some point in the melee.

With a clunk, the trap sealed shut and the wailing finally stopped. Peggy turned around to find the street mostly empty, lightly scarred and her people all okay. Angie broke into a run and caught her in a hug.

“Damn English. I always wanted to see you fight. Aw man, you got slimed.”

“And now so did you,” Peggy agreed. “I keep telling you to look before you leap.”

“And I keep telling you to take that hypocrisy and shove it. I’m not the type of girl you keep safe, Pegs.”

“I know that,” Peggy whispered. “But let me pretend once in awhile, okay?”

 

* * *

 

After the authorities came and all that got sorted out, they got out of dodge before the press could swarm. They did leave Mr. Ruan with an appointment for a job interview, it seemed only fair. Holtzman enthusiastically endorsed getting junk food and going out dancing, or alternatively dumpster diving. “It’s large item pick up day on one of my favorite streets, we could go get some bikes for welding and stuff.”

Her choice was vetoed in favor of Chinese food (ordered in) and showers. But when Peggy got out of the shower for the second time, dressed once again in the borrowed suit, there was some music going with a nice rhythm. It wasn’t familiar and the instruments were weirdly artificial, but she could see how it was danceable. She peeked her head out around the corner to watch.

Angie was hopping along in vague imitation of a dance Patty and Holtzman were doing, which involved a lot of shimmying and wild arm movements. And a few more risqué bits that you mind find in a back-hall blues dance. Behind them, Jarvis was apparently still, twenty minutes later, attempting to teach Kevin how to make coffee. She scooted upstairs and looked at her borrowed treasure. Nine dots, but the path of the passphrase was pretty clear from the fingerprint smudges. She had it unlocked in two tries.

A few failed attempts and she was open to a page which offered to help her find any sort of information she was looking for. She wondered when old Peggy had died. How long she’d had to live with her decision in this moment.

Angie came and found her maybe fifteen minutes later. The phone had already been returned to Kevin’s suitcase from whence it came. “Come on, Pegs, you gotta come help me. These ladies have never seen anybody dance swing.”

“Well, that is a crime,” Peggy agreed, getting to her feet and kicking off her shoes. “You leading or should I?”

“I figured we’d switch off. Hit it, girls!” Angie shouted over the balcony. Something slow, with a bit of old recording static wafted on. They walked downstairs hand in hand. Holtzman was standing with her back to Patty, whose arms had somehow ended up holding her in a loose hug as they swayed to the beat. Yeah, they definitely weren’t interested in each other. Holtzman looked like she’d bitten into something so sugar sweet that her jaw had locked up and now she couldn’t stop smiling.

As Angie led them into closed position, she rested her head on Peggy’s shoulder. “So, do we get to be together?”

Peggy let go with her right hand to brush Angie’s hair away from her face. “I don’t think we should let a little thing like history decide something as important as that.”


End file.
